


The Foreign Body

by cant_deny_the_johnlock_ship



Category: Sherlock - Fandom, john and sherlock - Fandom, johnlock - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cant_deny_the_johnlock_ship/pseuds/cant_deny_the_johnlock_ship





	The Foreign Body

"I’m not gay," John said.

"I know," Sherlock whispered softly, closing the distance between them with every step.

John held his breath as Sherlock neared, his face just inches away from his. He could feel his hot breath in the coldness of the room. Sherlock gently took a hold of John’s wrist but still managed to hold his gaze.

"I’m not Irene, either," he said.

"I’m very much aware of that, John."

Suddenly the room felt suffocating. John could almost feel their bodies pressed up against each other, just a few inches apart. Sherlock was still looking at him with an eerie vulnerability that John had never seen before. It wasn’t like Sherlock, it caught John off guard.

"John," Sherlock practically moaned.

John felt every inch of his skin begin to tingle with just that one word. Sherlock was still holding onto John’s wrist but it seemed to have tightened. John looked down at it curiously. Then back up to Sherlock’s face. His eyes softened when they meet John’s and suddenly he looked extremely, utterly sad. Like he wanted something, needed something. John couldn’t stand to see him this way.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked.

Sherlock gazed down at him, his eyes trailing to John’s lips.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," he responded, his hand coming up to cup John’s face as his lips slowly found their way to John’s, Sherlock’s body pressing up against his.

John felt the familiar wall against his back but the body pressed up against his was foreign. He could feel the outline of Sherlock’s shoulders, the flatness and solidness of his chest, his lips tightly locked with his own, his hair tickling the sides of John’s face. It was all new, and exciting, and exhilarating.

Sherlock’s hands came up suddenly, flattening his palms against the wall behind John as he pressed his body even closer to John’s, their legs intertwining. John was taken aback from the suddenness of it all. But now he knew what was going on, he knew exactly what was going on, and he knew what he wanted.

John’s hand came up, hesitantly at first, then found their way to Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock let out a small whimper as John grabbed a hold of the back of his head and forcefully smacked his lips against his. Sherlock’s hands slid down the wall and came to rest at John’s sides.

What started off as a small, innocent kiss was soon beginning to build into a full on make out. John’s hands ran through Sherlock’s curls as he felt Sherlock’s lips smash against his with bruise-worthy force. Sherlock’s lips felt hungry, his breath coming out in shallow gasps, his movements desperate. John was enjoying every minute of it. But he wanted more. Much more.

His hands trailed down to Sherlock’s shoulders as he broke away from the kiss. Sherlock groaned in annoyance but was soon silenced when John tilted his head and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock stiffened and John looked up to see his reaction. His eyes were closed in what looked like a slumber, his lips slightly parted.

"Is that okay?" John asked.

"No, no, its fine," Sherlock murmured.

John focused on his neck again, slowly brushing his lips over the pale soft skin. He could feel Sherlock shudder underneath his touch. He planted soft kisses starting from the back of his ear, to the curve of his neck, and finally settling on the hollow of his collar bone.

There was a groan from up above. It was all too much for Sherlock, who took John into his arms, pushed him up against the wall with such force it sounded and smashed his lips hungrily against John’s. His fingers desperately buried themselves under John’s shirt and found their way to the bare of his skin. John moaned at the sudden warmth of his touch as Sherlock’s fingers traveled to the small of his back, pressing John tightly against him.

Sherlock suddenly starting backing up, taking John with him, never once pulling away from their lip lock. John felt a different form against his back before Sherlock began pushing him into another room. They tripped over each other’s shoes as suddenly John’s legs hit the base of a bed and he fell backwards onto the familiar bedding with Sherlock following suit.


End file.
